


Crippled Love

by Lidsworth



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Paralysis, True Love, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami's love for his kitten Is tested when a camera accident leaves Takaba paralyzed from the waist down, and unable to function by himself. Will he still keep Akihito even after the photographer has lost his “worth”?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crippled Love

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is my first attempt at a light-hearted Finder Series story, since most of mine our sad. This is sorta adapted from one of my Resident Evil stories, though it's 100X more upbeat than the those. They may be a little OOC, but i'm working with what I have!  
> Anyway, on with the summary:  
> Asami's love for his kitten Is tested when a camera accident leaves Takaba near paralyzed, and unable to function by himself. Will he still keep Akihito even after the photographer has lost his “worth”?  
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Finder Series.

Asami leaned on the kitchen wall, completely undetected. His arms were crossed and his brows slightly furrowed, as he glared at the struggling young man standing above the burning stove, just feet away from him.  
The blond's persistence only added to his obvious trials, as he struggled to keep upright as he anxiously mixed the pot of boiling rice.  
Asami remained where he was, though if the situation called for it, he would spring to action immediately, and catch Akihito before he fell.  
However, the younger man hadn't been falling as of late, occasional trips and stumbles, yes, but flat out face- plants, no.  
It wasn't like before. Asami groaned, and brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. He hated thinking about before.  
His groan gave him away.  
“Asami!” Takaba had sought to tackle the task of a full, flawless twirl, but he'd wasted too much energy concentrating on just standing period, and the instant he had made to acknowledge his lover, he nearly collided with the ground.  
However, he fell into Asami instead, his head bobbing gently on the older man's chest. While he grabbed at the fabric to further steady himself, Asami's finger's snaked up Takaba's back, temporarily resting on the raised welts that were tangible under the boy's thin shirt.  
“There is no need to push yourself, Akihito,” Asami whispered to the being in his arms, “You should not be walking this much.”  
Akihito wriggled away from Asami, though carefully, and steadied himself slightly, “I can't just sit around and do nothing, and if I don't practice, how will I get better?”  
The determination did not waiver from the dark, sapphire eyes, and the smirk only complimented the resolve. He stared intently at Asami, “And besides,” he continued, as he wobbled back to the stove, “I want to start working again, not hard jobs, or anything like that. I found a great offer at this book store, it's called Shizukana bookstore, the interview is today. It would be really easy for me to get around, they accommodate the handicap, and besides, I just can't sit here all day and do nothing.”  
“Yes you can,” Asami moved towards him again, and pulled him into a soft embrace, “And what makes you think that I'll allow you to work?”  
Akihito rolled his eyes in pure annoyance. His paralysis had unearthed an overbearing Asami, and it had been a little over a year since he had last been allowed to leave the house.  
The accident itself was a memory that kept Takaba up late at night, though he recovered from the chronic shock almost immediately. Asami, on the other hand, was a different story.  
Akihito assumed that the Yakuza replayed the scenario in his head daily, and put into play how much worse the situation could have gone. 

He considered that fact Akihito could have been dead.  
And at the time, when Akihito's hopes and dreams had come to a sudden halt, he had wished death upon himself.  
Asami was angry with him, angry at him for disobeying his orders, and persisting to capture “the scoop” which dealt with another black-market trade off.  
The Yakuza had warned Akihito more than once not to get in his way, to stay out of “grown-up” affairs, to stop being such a selfish little brat that senselessly threw himself into harms way.  
“Because there will be a time,” Asami had hissed, in the midst of one of their heated disagreements, “When I will not save you, when I will be unable to.”  
And upon Akihito's disobedience that night, he had realized that that would be the very day when Asami would be unable to save him.  
The shot had been quick. He felt an excruciating pain for a second, followed by another, and a painful numbness ensued.  
Hours later, he woke in a hospital bed, unable to move his legs. Asami had been there, but not for comfort, not for condolence.  
“Look at you now, you are pathetic. I warned you,” began the older man, “That I would not be able to save you this time, Takaba. You nearly ruined my reputation tonight, nearly exposed an important business partner of mine. Do you know, I nearly shot the dealer? Do you know what kind of hell that would have caused? Do you know whose fault that would have been,” the older man paused, and shook his head in a sort of disbelief, “You've become a liability, one that I can no longer afford to keep chained by my side.”  
The older man made his leave, while Takaba stared at him with horrified wide eyes.  
“You wanted freedom, and so I'm giving it to you. But I ask, only in return, that you will stay away from me, and my private affairs. This is goodbye, Akihito.”  
Never in his life had Takaba begged like he had that night. He apologized for his mistake, apologized for nearly ruining Asami's reputation, and for nearly causing a war. But Asami was gone.  
He collapsed on the ground, in a feeble attempt to chase after his lover. But his legs weren't working.  
His legs were not working!  
The shock eventually overcame the sadness, and the depression began to take hold.  
Oooooooooooo  
Because Asami was such a wuss when it came to distance between he and Akihito, Takaba had only been away from Asami for a little over a month.  
In that short time span, his friends and family did anything they could to bring his spirits back up.  
Kou took him to numerous Japanese park festivals, as it was one of their favorite things to do as children. Akihito had enjoyed it for the most part, sampling sweet dangos, Takoyaki, and many other foods that he loved as a child. He wore the traditional yutaka as well, it was the dark blue one that his mother had specifically hand picked for him.  
They even stopped for a round of sushi.  
It wasn't until dusk that the eventual heartbreak took place. The lights and colors clashed against each other so beautifully, and painted on the dark evening sky, and illuminated by the pale light of the moon, Kou had never seen anything so spectacular.  
“Why not take a pict-”  
He tried to stop himself, tried to change the word, but the damage had already been done.  
At the mere mention of the word “picture”, the former photographer had gone into a nervous frenzy. He tried to laugh about the situation, tried to brush off Kou's unintentional mistake, but the word carried too much baggage.  
In minutes, Akihito had broken down. Unable to walk, and bound to a wheelchair, he felt more pathetic than ever.  
No words of encouragement could convince him otherwise.  
Oooo  
When depression wasn't the answer to his pain, and suicide was not an option, Akihito took it upon himself to learn how to walk again.  
Bruises, scrapes and injuries had pleaded with him, telling him that his attempts were futile, that the doctor knew what he was talking about, that he was never going to walk again.  
But he never gave up, and no one ever told him to.  
They didn't believe they had the right to deny him of his false happiness.  
So they helped him, at least Kou did, while Takato voiced his disapproving opinions.  
They would spend hours together, the three of them, attempting to prove the medical world wrong.  
Takaba believed he could walk, he just needed the dedication and willpower.  
Kou supported him one hundred percent.  
Takato thought it was bogus, but helped out anyway.  
One day, Akihito had been practicing extremely hard, and had gained the scars to prove it. When he fell, he fell. He never allowed his friends to catch him, or cushion him when his head collided with the hard wooden floor.  
He wanted to “take it like a man”. Bruises remained totem to the goal he was trying to reach.  
Therefore, he decided to raise the bar just slightly, and “trick” his mind into sending more adrenaline down his way.  
“Your spine was severed in multiple places,” Takato had exasperated, “It has nothing to do with adrenaline!”  
“You'll see!” Takaba had called from his position on the ground, “this will work!”  
Takato rolled his eyes at the idiotic plan. Kou was to sit on Takaba's back, and according to the photographer, the sensation of having another male on top of him should have been enough to send just the right amount of energy into his legs, so that he could push himself up.  
Biology, in this circumstance, did not work like that.  
Akihito refused to believe that.  
That's why Akihito's major was photo-journalism.  
Needless to say, the duo began the awkward exercise, only to have the bedroom door swing open and startle them all.  
In the door frame, stood a man with golden eyes.  
Takato imagined the scene from the older man's perspective, and assumed It looked quiet strange.  
Though the man's golden eyes held something far harsher than confusion about them, and something about the way in which Kou harmlessly straddled Akihito's limp hips fueled the man's silent rage even more.  
Both Kou and Takato were forcefully removed from the small apartment, thus leaving Akihto alone with the strange man.  
Asami had come to apologize.  
Oooooooooooo  
“Akihito, forgi-”  
“I don't need you,” Takaba had harshly interrupted the older man, “and I don't want to be with you either. You asked me to leave you alone, and I’m leaving you alone! Now do the same for me, and fuck off!”  
Takaba had backed himself into a corner, and with no means of escape, he felt slightly fearful of the man looming over him, and his look of defiance was beginning to waiver.  
He believed that Asami wanted him gone, out of his life! Why the hell was he asking for his forgiveness now?  
“I'm giving you what you want,” he looked away, as he crafted his response out of Asami's own words, “freedom.”  
In mere seconds, Asami was on all fours before Akihito, his lips crashing into the cripple's quivering ones. Takaba gasped at the intrusion, and did so again as Asami's hungry hands crawled over his body.  
“I cannot be without you,” Asami breathed in Takaba's ear, as he scooped him up in a haste, and tossed him on the bedroom bed, “Whether you forgive me or not, whether you are crippled or not, you will always be mine.”  
The lustful kissing resumed, as Asami leaned over Takaba's body, burying his head in the crook of the smaller man's neck.  
“Perhaps your small taste of freedom caused you to forget who your “Master” is,” his warm breath sent shivers own Takaba's injured spine, and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around Asami, “and perhaps my own judgment was clouded. But I cannot be without you,” because I love you , and this is hard for me to say, “so please, Akihito, forgive me.”  
Takaba's hysterical crying was enough of a response for Asami.  
OOOO  
The first month had been hell. Asami wanted to help Takaba anyway he could, was always pushing the photographer back onto his wheelchair, despite his protest.  
Akihito wanted to move around, wanted to be useful. Asami just could not understand that, could not understand that Akihito just wanted to do things by himself.  
He wanted to be helpful, but Asami's constant concern denied Akihito that right.  
Asami took care of Takaba, he cleaned him, helped him eat, bathed him, and Takaba hated every bit of it. He did not want to be helped.  
Not only that, but the older man had hired the best doctors to ensure that Akihito's health was the best. They all told him the same boring shit.  
“You won't be able to walk for a while, probably never!”  
“Stop this idiotic attempt to walk again, you simply cannot!”  
“Just give up already!”  
And Akihito was close to. He was a burden to Asami, a liability, why the older man took him back, he had no clue.  
However, Asami's patience with Takaba was astounding, as the Yakuza took days off of work to ensure that Takaba was comfortable. Slowly, Akihito stopped his complaining, as he did not want to seem ungrateful for the time Aasmi was giving to him.  
Only when the older man finally left to go to work, did Akihito cry.  
Had he the ability, he would have torn the house down, but his paralysis prevented him from doing so.  
And then the paranoia began to set in.  
You're useless, he'll dump you in a heartbeat!  
Leave while you can, before your heart gets broken!  
What if someone else is sucking him off behind your back! What if someone's doing what you can't do anymore!?  
The voices plagued Akihito's soft head, the tortured him into the late night hours, they tormented him like angry devils to a pleading soul.  
Asami could clearly see the distress mounting within his kitten, and it was beginnig to worry him. Akihito would go the extra mile to say, “goodbye” to Asami, or clean up what he could around the house, or practice that damn walking again.  
He now sported a fake smile, and it greeted Asami every second he came into contact with the photographer.  
Asami was not an idiot, he knew what this was about.  
He sought to end the strand of useless emotions.  
So, that night, for the first time in forever, he simply told Akihito that he loved him, and that his heart belonged to no one else but Takaba.  
And since then, things got a little easier.  
Not to mention, Akihito's paralysis was not as bad as the doctor's believed it to be, after a routine checkup, it appeared that his practice had paid off.  
Little by little, if he didn't push himself, and received the proper amount of rest, his walking would slowly come back, though it would never be the same.  
Photography was no longer recommended, as it required too much physical activity.  
But he had been told he could never walk again too. 

He helped as a hand snaked into the front of his sweat pants, grabbing hold of his manhood.  
“A-Asami!” he gasped, as the Yakuza's lustful actions snapped him out of his deep thoughts, “What the hell!”  
Asami chuckled, as he pulled the photographer closer to him than he previously was, “I couldn't help myself, you were just standing there, so deep in thought. It was the perfect opportunity. I had to seize the moment.”  
Asami's skillful hand worked it's way through Takaba's lower half, and slowly, he felt himself losing his footing sooner than expected.  
“As..a..mi,” he breathed, as the Yakuza bent own, and plastered kisses on his pale neck, “not in the kitchen!”  
Asami laughed, and swept the photographer off of his feat, and into his strong hold, “Whatever my lovely Akihito wants.”  
“Idiot!” Takaba shouted in protest, as Asami carried him into their bedroom, “I didn't say I wanted this!”  
Needless to say, hours later, Asami had left the cripple nearly motionless when he had finished with him.  
Above him, Asami straitened his suit, and adjusted his tie.  
It was time to go to work.  
“I'll be back early today,” he spoke, as he made his leave, “you're already cleaned up, so there should be no reason as to why you would need to get up, unless you need to go to the restroom or eat. But do not leave this building. Do you understand, Akihito?”  
Takaba looked at him with jaded eyes.  
“Akihi-”  
“I'm not going anywhere Asami! Just go to work, please!” Takaba pulled the pillow over his head, and closed his eyes, complaining “you're bugging me!”  
“Goodbye then,” Asami muttered, as he made his leave.  
“Have a nice day, Asami-sama!” Takaba jokingly called out to his lover. When he could hear the door “click” closed one final time, a mischievous smirk crossed his features.  
“Goodbye Asami--“sama”,” he muttered to himself, as he rolled over to the side of the bed, and pulled out a newspaper article from under it, “hello Shizukana bookstore.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, feel free to tell me how you liked it! Have a nice week, and God bless. Let's pray/keep in mind especially the crisis going on in China, apparently people are being jailed for the content in which there are storing, that includes slash. In general, keep those who are suffering in your hearts, thoughts, and/or prayers. Again tell me what you think, and God bless!


End file.
